


RSVP

by scribblingnellie



Series: wedding pieces [1]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, John and Mary's Wedding, Matchmaking, Sherlock Holmes and Mary Morstan friendship, Wedding Planning, possibly friendship fluff, table plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblingnellie/pseuds/scribblingnellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wedding preparations, RSVPs and table plans. Sherlock has an idea, but Mary's not so sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RSVP

**Author's Note:**

> A quickly written wee drabble exploring the possibilities of the friendship and ease between Sherlock and Mary in the run up to the wedding. Many thanks for reading!

  
'Ah, Greg's RSVP... oh.'

At Mary's pause, Sherlock looked up. Quickly scanning the brief handwritten note at the bottom of the card in her hand, he picked up the label with the Inspector's name on.

'No plus one then.'

'No.' Mary shook her head. 'That's a shame. I had hoped he'd bring someone. He seems... lonely.'

'Hmm.' Pondering the table plan before him, Sherlock reached over to table one and decisively stuck the label down.

'Not there, Sherlock.' Mary reached across him and pulled the label up, moving it three spaces to the left.

Raising his eyebrow. 'Isn't that just a bit too obvious?'

'They're both single; you never know, they may hit it off.' Straightening the names, she nodded in satisfaction.

'Dreadful idea.' Snatching Greg's label up, Sherlock shook his head. 'Your work colleague... Karen?... not Lestrade's type.'

'And how do you know what his type is?'

A small huff escaped his lips. 'Simple observation. There is always a particular kind of person that he is more relaxed with.'

Replacing the label in its original position, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

'And what kind would that be?' Mary gave him a curious look.

'Quiet, calm, good listener, honest, introvert, loyal, caring, smart.'

'That's quite specific.' Her eyes dropped to where Sherlock's fingers were still shuffling the other labels around table one.

'Yes, well, going on his past experience, he is much better suited to someone with such characteristics.'

'I see.' Mary cleared her throat. 'So you're going to seat Greg there. Next to someone who has all those characteristics... and who he's secretly in love with.'

Snapping his head up, Sherlock stared at Mary. 'How..?'

'Simple observation.' And she smiled at his flummoxed expression.

'Oh, ok.' Regaining his composure, he clasped his hands in front of him. 'Well, I think it's the perfect spot for him.'

'You're sure about that?' Her fingers rested on Greg's name. 'You're happy to put him through it?'

'Put him through what?'

'Oh Sherlock. Molly's engaged and you want Greg to spend the whole dinner sitting next to her and her fiancé.'

'Yes.' Nodding emphatically, he pressed the label firmer against the table plan.

'Why?'

'Call it subtle persuasion.'

'Since when did you go in for subtle?'

Busying himself with the small pile of remaining RSVPs in front of him, Sherlock evaded Mary's look. 'They're my… friends.' Bending his head, he studied the next card on the pile intently. 'I just want them to be happy.'

Mary let her hand slide gently over his, making him look up. 'Of course they'd be happy together. We can both see that. But Sherlock, we can't interfere.'

'I'm not interfering, just... just sitting two good friends next to each other.'

Smiling, she squeezed his hand. 'Ok, two good friends sitting next to each other. Just this once. But you have to promise..' Mary withdrew her hand and picked up the next card on her RSVP pile. '... _promise_ not to meddle. Ok?'

Another small huff. 'Ok, I promise.'

And as Mary began placing names around table two, glancing back at the cards in front of her, Sherlock uncrossed his fingers in his lap.

*****  



End file.
